


Going Home

by makkurataichou



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: EPILEO, First Kiss, M/M, Post-Anime, based on anime universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 02:16:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10777368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makkurataichou/pseuds/makkurataichou
Summary: Drabble. After Sorey returns from the depths of the earthpulse, he and Mikleo return to Elysia together.





	Going Home

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a conversation between [gab](https://twitter.com/teacupcliffo) and [feli](https://twitter.com/talesofresty) after the last episode of TOZX aired yesterday! Regardless of all the discourse surrounding the anime the soymilk content made me so happy!! ALSO I'M SO GLAD WE GOT EPILEO I LOVE HIM
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this fic!!

“It’s gotten colder up here.”

Mikleo smiles. “It has. Ever since you purified the world, the climate has been changing, little by little.”

“Hmm.” Sorey rubs his hands together, shivering a little. “There’s a lot I don’t know about this world, huh? Especially after so long…”

He pauses to wrap his arms around himself, and Mikleo slows down to wait for him. The clouds above them are grey and heavy with the promise of snow, and sure enough, when they resume their trek mere moments later, a few snowflakes begin to fall from the sky, coating the green grass of the mountains with a layer of powdery white.

“You’re cold, Sorey,” Mikleo says, more of an observation than a question. Carefully, he pulls off one of his gloves and takes Sorey’s arm in his, sliding the glove onto the former Shepherd’s hand. He does the same with the other, and Sorey lets him, watching in silence while still taking in Mikleo’s new appearance. He looks so different...so mature, so much older...and yet he’s no different from the Mikleo Sorey has always known. His expressions, his voice, his gestures; they’re all the same even now, sometimes concerned, sometimes teasing, and always full of affection.

Mikleo lets go of Sorey’s arms and takes a step back. “Better?” he asks, a soft smile playing upon his lips. Sorey can only nod in response, but Mikleo seems satisfied with that much as he takes Sorey’s now gloved hand in his and pulls them further up the mountain.

“Come on, Sorey,” he says with a short, breathy laugh, tugging him along. “Everyone’s waiting to see you.”

Mikleo’s enthusiasm is contagious, and Sorey finds himself laughing too as he runs up the hill with his best friend, even as the snow continues to fall more heavily upon them. At some point, he lets go of Mikleo’s hand and dashes further ahead, his breath escaping him in short gasps as he runs faster and faster, the gates of Elysia looming in the distance.

Just short of the entrance, he slows to a stop and doubles over, trying to calm his racing heart. He hasn’t had that kind of exercise in _centuries_ , and he can definitely feel it now. Mikleo catches up to him a few moments later and places a gentle hand on his back.

“I...beat you,” Sorey whispers cheekily, turning his head to look Mikleo in the eye. It is then that he realizes how close Mikleo is standing; long hair falls over the seraph’s shoulders as he watches Sorey, who immediately becomes aware of the fact that his heart is still thumping against his ribcage even after he’s managed to catch his breath.

Mikleo is so close, and Sorey suddenly wants nothing more than to lean in and—

Then, Mikleo pulls back and places his hands on his hips. “I would’ve won if I hadn’t dragged you along,” he huffs. “If I’d just left you behind, you would’ve been stuck down there shivering on your own.”

“H-hey! That’s not true!” Sorey protests, leaning down to grab a fistful of snow. “You were cold too, don’t lie!”

“I’m a water seraph, Sorey, I don’t get—hey!”

Mikleo lets out a shout of surprise when Sorey hits him in the shoulder with a snowball. The former Shepherd grins, his other arm ready to scoop more snow from the ground. But his eyes grow wide when Mikleo uses his artes to shift the snow beneath them into the shape of a large wave.

“You made the wrong choice starting a snowball fight with a master seraph, Sorey,” Mikleo teases. “Prepare yourself.”

They spend the next few minutes running around outside the gates of Elysia, throwing snow at each other. Mikleo sends sweeping waves of snow in Sorey’s direction, and Sorey dodges them all and gets in a few more shots before he’s forced to duck behind one of the gates to take cover.

“I give, I give!” he laughs from behind the large pillar, and Mikleo drops his next wave mid-sweep. Sorey heaves a sigh of relief, not seeing the small clump of snow forming above his head until it’s too late. He is covered in snow from head to toe by the time Mikleo approaches him, watching him with a mirthful gaze.

“Now we’re even,” he concludes with a soft laugh, reaching up to brush some snow from Sorey’s hair. Sorey closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Mikleo’s fingers against his scalp.

Then, without warning, the snow beneath them shifts and Sorey finds himself sandwiched between the gate and Mikleo’s warm body. Mikleo’s arm is braced against the pillar, trying to keep himself from crushing Sorey, but their bodies are still pressed together and Sorey desperately hopes that Mikleo cannot feel his rapid heartbeat thudding between them.

But Mikleo does not make a move to pull away, giving Sorey the opportunity to take in his expression up close. He seems calm, and his eyes are still filled with amusement, but it’s accompanied by a lingering pain that no amount of joyful distraction can seem to chase away.

“It’s...really been seven hundred years…” Sorey whispers, gazing into Mikleo’s eyes. “I guess that means we haven’t been this close in a long time.”

Mikleo exhales slowly. “A long time...really is an understatement,” he whispers, pulling back slightly to take Sorey’s hands in his own. “To be here with you again, talking and laughing like this…it’s almost unbelievable.”

He rubs his thumbs over the backs of Sorey’s gloved hands, slowly, tenderly, and Sorey’s heart catches at how affectionate the gesture is. But there is still so much loneliness in Mikleo’s gaze, and he wants nothing more than to make it go away.

“Hey Mikleo.” Feeling bold, Sorey leans in closer and bumps their foreheads together. “I’m here now, and I’ll never leave again, okay?”

Mikleo frowns. “But you’re still human, Sorey, it’s only a matter of time before—”

“Don’t say that,” Sorey replies, cutting him off. He knows that Mikleo is right, and that it’s something that has always weighed upon them, even as children. But it’s not something he wants to think about right now...not when Mikleo is here and real and right in front of him.

“Even if I do....leave…” he continues, “I’ll just come back as a seraph, and then we can be together forever. Okay?’

At that, Mikleo lets out a laugh that echoes across the hillside. “Sorey!” he wheezes. “That...that’s so childish!”

“W-what? It’s possible!”

Mikleo shakes his head, still smiling. “You’re such an optimist, Sorey,” he breathes. “But that’s what I like so much about you.”

Then, unexpectedly, he leans in and presses a soft, lingering kiss against Sorey’s lips.

They stay that way for about three seconds before Mikleo pulls away abruptly, promptly busying himself by playing with the ends of his ponytail. Sorey’s eyes are wide, but he shakes his head and quickly turns away to look at the sky, the ground, the rocks—anything to avoid Mikleo’s gaze. He’s still hyper aware of how warm and soft Mikleo’s mouth felt against his.

The snow continues to fall around them, and the air steadily grows colder. Mikleo is the first to break the silence.

“S-sorry,” he stammers, gripping his own hair tightly. “I-I wasn’t thinking, and you—I mean, we were...”

Sorey looks at him again—Mikleo’s cheeks are stained pink, his eyes lidded with embarrassment as he looks away. It’s incredibly nostalgic, and Sorey can’t help but cover his mouth and let out a stifled laugh.

Mikleo pauses mid-apology. “Are...are you _laughing_ at me?!”

“No, no!” Sorey insists, raising his hands defensively. “I was just thinking...you haven’t changed at all! You still get flustered like you used to back then.”

If possible, Mikleo’s cheeks turn even redder. “I-I do not!” he cries, shoving Sorey’s hands away while the brunet continues to laugh even harder. The seraph crosses his arms across his chest indignantly, refusing to look Sorey in the eye.

“Are you trying to ignore me again?” Sorey teases. “You used to do that when we were kids, you know.”

“...I’m not.”    

Sorey chuckles. “Now who’s being childish?”

Mikleo doesn’t respond, still pouting. Sorey tilts his head, smiling faintly, and reaches forward to place his hands on Mikleo’s cheeks.

“It’s okay, Mikleo!” he says, gently brushing the bangs away from the seraph’s face. “I think it’s cute.”

“S-Sorey!”

Sorey is blushing now too, but he still doesn’t hesitate as he leans in and places a kiss against Mikleo’s forehead, then the tip of Mikleo’s nose. “That’s what I like so much about _you_ ,” he says softly, smiling. “To be honest, there are a lot of things, but...it’s a start.”

“I…” Mikleo hesitates, then falls completely silent. His lips tremble a little, and Sorey can’t tell whether it’s because of the cold or something else, but he finds himself drawn in regardless. The urge to chase away Mikleo’s worries is more overpowering than all other rational thought...and the urge to kiss him is even stronger, swelling within his chest like a balloon about to burst.

Slowly, Sorey leans in and brushes his mouth against Mikleo’s, silently asking for permission. He lingers there for a few moments, and when the seraph doesn’t protest he presses himself closer, moving one hand to cup the back of Mikleo’s head. Soon enough, he feels Mikleo kissing back, feels hands sliding up his chest to brace themselves against his shoulders. Before he knows it, Sorey finds himself pressed up against the gate, Mikleo’s body towering over his, and he sighs when he feels gentle fingers running through his hair.

They exchange kiss after kiss, some soft and chaste, others more open-mouthed and desperate. Sorey can feel every emotion that Mikleo has held in over the centuries in each of his kisses—loneliness, fear, longing, desperation. He drapes his arms around Mikleo’s neck, tugging himself even closer, giving Mikleo better access to his mouth and letting out a moan when the seraph’s tongue brushes against his own—

Then, a combined shout of their names snaps them out of their affectionate haze. Startled, they pull apart and see Kyme and Cynthia approaching them, knowing grins on both of their faces.

“Sorey! You’re finally back!” Kyme says, relief evident in his voice. “It’s good to see you again.”

Cynthia looks between the two of them, her grin growing wider. “So _this_ is why Mikleo hasn’t visited in so long,” she teases. “You two must’ve been...occupied.”

Mikleo groans, turning away from them to face Sorey instead. “T-told you they were waiting,” he mumbles, ignoring the blush on his cheeks and taking Sorey’s hand in his. “Let’s go see everyone, okay? Gramps has things he wants to say to you.”

Sorey nods, still a little dazed. “Can we stay up after?” he asks. “Just the two of us...there’s a lot we need to catch up on.”

Mikleo’s hand squeezes his, lacing their fingers together more tightly. “Yeah,” he says simply, a soft smile on his face, but Sorey sees the promise of more in his eyes.

Hand-in-hand, they take a step forward, and Sorey feels the warmth of Zenrus’ domain wash over him, stronger than ever before.

He’s finally home.

* * *

Extra:

“So, Kyme? Who was it?” Mason asks excitedly, eyeing the older seraph carefully. The other seraphim gather around him as well, eagerly waiting to hear what he is about to say.

Kyme raises his hands and waits for everyone to settle down. Then, he clears his throat.

“It was...Mikleo.”

Collective shouts of triumph and groans of defeat echo throughout the room. Some of the seraphim chug their drinks, and the alcohol in their glasses sloshes around dangerously, threatening to spill all over Zenrus’ floorboards.

Mason’s shoulders slump and he turns to Melody with a frown. “I was so sure Sorey would be the one to initiate it!” he sighs, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a handful of gald. “He’s always been the romantic!”

Melody shakes her head. “Ah, but Mikleo’s had seven hundred years to pine after him,” she says with a smile, gratefully accepting the money. “I didn’t think he’d hesitate, did you?”

“And we all know how much Mikleo missed Sorey while he was gone, don’t we?” Shaun chimes in, raising his glass to the pair sitting in the corner. “To the new couple!”

“To the new couple!” everyone echoes, and the sound of clinking glasses and excited chatter fills Zenrus’ hut. The topic gradually veers away from Sorey and Mikleo, but the two of them don’t move from their spots, too embarrassed to talk to anyone else.

“They were placing bets,” Sorey groans, burying his face in his hands. “I can’t believe this.”

Mikleo leans his head back against the wall. “I should’ve seen this coming,” he sighs tiredly. “The only person I ever talked to about this stuff was Gramps...so all those times I heard weird noises coming from outside…” He catches Mason’s eye, who gives him a drunken wink. “It must’ve been them eavesdropping.”

Sorey stares at the floorboards. “This is what we get for saving Mason back then…” he grumbles. “We should’ve just let Lunarre eat him.”

“Don’t say that.”

“And then maybe Rose would’ve ended up being Shepherd instead of me,” he adds. “And I could’ve become a seraph like I wanted to.”

“Sorey.” Mikleo laughs, reaching over to ruffle Sorey’s hair. “Stop speculating. We’re here now, aren’t we?”

Sorey smiles back. “Yeah,” he agrees. “And nothing’s gonna stop me from enjoying this party tonight...bets included.”

Behind them, a drunk Natalie shouts, “So who wants to bet on who would top first?”

The two of them freeze.

“On second thought…” Sorey’s entire face turns red when he says, “I’m ready to leave now.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can never resist the idea of shy first kisses.......or the idea of them turning spicier after /)w(\


End file.
